Oranges
by lovefromhogwarts
Summary: Surprises. Essays. Perfume. A certain little memory. And a little kiss on his cheek that they'll never forget...


A/N: Give it a chance & you can wring my neck in a review, if need be, for having me make you read this(:

Now, I don't own anything. Except for the idea. But how I wish I own HP :D

Please don't sue me, Jo:(

Hermione Granger was shocked to find herself in this position.

She, after minutes of her carefully planned time had written nearly nothing on her Potions essay. And why was that?

Ron.

He had been staring at her. Her wandering eyes locked with his and he turned away suddenly. Hermione could see a blush creeping onto his cheeks. Inside, her stomach did a flip-flop. Ronald Bilius Weasley, possibly the most annoying, awkward—yet admittedly handsome—git she had ever met, was staring at her. _Did you honestly call him a git? You've been spending way too much time together, _the logical part of her brain grumbled.

_No! No you haven't! You haven't even—you know, done anything that suggests anything but a strictly 'friends' relationship __**ever**_, a shockingly girly & romantic part of her brain whined.

So this was how Hermione spent her essay time: debating the Ron dilemma. Over and over, she told herself they were simply friends. Bet friends, in fact, who just fought an awful lot because they were different… but cared enough to try and patch up their frayed relationship. Or did they fight for some other reason entirely?

Finally, she took a deep breath. The common room was emptying out and she felt the need to get away from him for a while. More and more lately, he plagued her thoughts, and this essay was due in two days; why had Snape given them so little time? Hermione sighed. As she stepped out of the common room, hands covered her eyes. Surprised, Hermione nearly tripped and let out a small shriek. The hands withdrew quickly, their owner obviously unsuspecting this result.

"'Mione, it's me!" Ron's voice whispered. "You're going to wake up all of Gryffindor House!"

"Ron, what could be so important that you make me think I'm getting abducted?" She turned around to see him staring at his feet, his ears visibly a shade of pink that was getting close to bright red.

"Sorry," was his mumbled reply. "Anyway… I was, um," _It's only Hermione! Stop tripping over your words like an idiot!_ "wondering if you coul- would help me with my Potions essay." He finished lamely, holding up the textbook in his hand. "Please, 'Mione?"

"Sure," she replied after a pause, adding to herself '_only because it's you'_.

"Thanks." His eyes lit up and he looked genuinely pleased. Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Where were you going anyway?"

"Oh, um, library. But seeing as the commons are empty, we can stay here."

"Do you want to go to the library?" He asked her. Ron could actually be quite a gentleman, if he tried. And it so happened that a particular friend of his with bushy hair made him try.

Hermione contemplated this momentarily, before saying "No, let's stay here." He nodded his agreement.

As they made themselves comfortable on a sofa near the fire, she said absentmindedly, "You surprise me, Ron."

"Surprise _you_?" Ron was appalled. Dryly, he commented, "I didn't know that way possible."

"You've actually come to ask for help on an essay over 24 hours before it's due. And, for the record, you've surprised me before."

"There's Quidditch tomorrow." Ron added simply. _Wow_, he thought, _I can surprise Hermione! That's a feat._

"Oh," Internally, Hermione let out a sigh, "right." Of course, she was still a bit surprised he'd asked before the fact, not after. However, it hurt a bit to know he only wanted help because of Quidditch, not because he wanted to spend time with her or anything of that sort. Hermione pulled out her essay and flushed as Ron picked it up.

His mouth agape, he started thinking aloud, "Bloody _hell_, Hermione, you've barely written anything! I mean, tons more than me, but nothing for you!"

"I've had a lot on my mind." She snapped.

"Like what you're going to write in your next novel to Vicky?" His tone had gotten much snarkier in the span of seconds.

"Shut UP!" He could tell she was on edge, and his shoulders slumped. Ron, being who he was, would never admit that it hurt a bit, seeing Hermione this… fragile. She was strong and independent, not like this.

"I-" He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer and huskier. "I'm sorry."

Hermione's stomach was tingling with a sort of nervousness and excitement. Their eyes met and she felt her heart start to soften, his azure blue eyes begging her to understand he meant it. _Two apologies in one night; today must be 'miracle day' or something. I'd need to look it up though._

"Don't bring up Viktor." She pleaded. "Since you happen to be so interested, I haven't talked to him in a while."

"Oh." Ron's tone had changed completely. "So are you… over him?"

"I guess so." _Wait- why am I even telling Ron this? I'm supposed to be helping him, not pouring out my heart like this is some Muggle 'chick flick' and he's going to suddenly lean over, kiss me, and we'll live happily ever after. Ha ha ha,_ she thought sarcastically. "So, what aren't you understanding?"

"The whole crushed bay leaves before the worms. I mean, I get how to do it, but I don't understand why."

"Oh Ron," she shook her head. "It's just that the worms would eat the leaves before they died, therefore messing up the potion. But they won't eat the cooked ones."

"Really? That was it?" He ran his hands through his flaming red hair. "Blimey, why do they have to make it so complicated?"

Inexplicably, Hermione grinned. At first, he was going to snap at her, but… damn, that smile was infectious. Before he knew it, Ron was grinning like an idiot.

"Let's finish these essays." She told him gently, her smile fading. The two friends sat in the darkness, quills scratching on parchment until they both finished. Hermione, like always, finished first, and snuggled a little into Ron, watching him finish. Once he completed the essay, he asked her the question that had been nagging him. "Like it there?" Her side was right up against his, and he could feel her body heat. _She smells like- that's the perfume I got her! For Christmas! She's wearing it!_ "You're wearing the perfume I got you."

"What?" She said, startled. His words began to register. "Oh, yeah." A blush covered her cheeks, and anxiously, she pushed a strand of hair back. Ron's eyes followed her fingers and he subconsciously licked his lips and ran his hand through his own hair. Like a rewind button had been pressed, he considered his behavior. _Wait, WHAT? I can't keep my eyes off her! I'm licking my lips! I'm- I'm- oh Merlin_. Intensely, he looked her over. Those brown eyes made him melt when she looked at him, the way her hair bushed up had an odd attractiveness to him. _She's beautiful. _

"I really like it. The perfume, I mean." She took a deep breath before she began rambling. "At first, I thought it was kind of weird. I mean, orange perfume? But I love it. It's so summery and cheerful and you…" Her hand flew to her lips, "and youthful." She amended weakly. _Why did that have to slip out?_

FLASHBACK

Hermione's dress fluttered in the summer breeze as she tossed Ron an orange. The Weasleys (and Harry, who practically was a Weasley by now) had just finished playing Quidditch, and while the rest went in to change, Ron stayed out to sit with Hermione.

"Thanks." He called from his spot near the bank of the river. She went to sit down next to him. Her nose wrinkled.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed be Ron. "I'm sure I smell awful, Hermione, you can go."

"It's fine, really." The second that Ron's fingers dug into the orange peel, the fragrant smell covered them—both literally and figuratively, head to toe. Hermione began laughing and Ron followed.

END FLASHBACK

"It reminds you of me?" His voice was doing that low, husky thing again. _He needs to stop doing that; I'm going to go into cardiac arrest! _Hermione's heart was beating painfully fast against her ribcage. Ron wasn't sure why he brought it up; after all, she probably just misspoke… right?

"That day." She blushed. "During that summer, between 3rd and 4th year."

"You still remember?" Ron's voice was still quite husky, and Hermione's heart only kept beating faster. "That's why I bought it."

"How could I forget?" Her voice was quiet and breathy, for Hermione, that is. For once the illogical, girly side of Hermione Jean Granger won out as she hugged him, their chests flush up against each other. Disappointed that Ron hadn't even reacted, let along hug her back, she started to back away…

Only to feel his hands on her back, pushing her back into him.

_Her hair smells like vanilla and a bit of cinnamon,_ he noted. _It smelled good with orange._

_He smells like spearmint toothpaste, and something woodsy… is that aftershave?_ She did her best to subtly brush his cheek with her own and did feel some stubble. Her heartbeat started beating faster again, and Ron could feel it.

They slowly pulled away, realizing they'd been hugging for far too long for it to be considered 'friendly'.

"You've been shaving." She stated. _How come I hadn't noticed before? _She thought. _Must've been concentrating on OWL's._

"Mmm, just noticed? Tut tut." He said, mimicking Umbridge surprisingly well. "I think someone's observational skills need work."

"Oh, shut up." She hit his arm lightly. "How long have you been shaving for anyway?"

"A month or so." There was a hint of pride in this statement. 15, going on 16 in the next few days, and he was already shaving.

"Wow." Her eyes got a little wide. "Well, I ought to turn in for the night. See you in the morning, Ron." Gently, she brushed her lips across his stubbly cheek as a kiss before blushing and racing upstairs.

_Blimey! She kissed me! Just like she did before that Quidditch match… but this was different, somehow. Not bad different, however. I could get used to this. Not that I have any non-platonic feelings for her, obviously… ok, that's a lie. Maybe I do. Just maybe though._

Once he settled his mental argument, at least somewhat, he realized that he used the word 'non-platonic'. _She's rubbing off on me._ If the truth be told, he didn't really mind…

A/N: well… fluffage, but not tons, seeing as I nearly put in a snogging sequence. But that's just not them(; We'll save that kind of stuff for someone's dramatic Harry & Ginny fanfic (not mine though! I don't write Harry/Ginny, as I'm slightly torn because I think he and Luna could've done pretty well too, but I always figured she & Neville would get together…)

This is supposed to take place during OotP, as you may have gathered. Late February, actually, like the week or two before Ron's 16th birthday (I believe?).

R&R, please?

P.S. I apologize for the large number of ellipses. It's a bad habit/obsession of mine xD


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